Loyalties
by The Wandering Pen
Summary: Bakumatsu time period. Okita goes on a solo mission to save the adopted son of Lord Matsudaira.
1. Chapter 1

_This one is for Twilight Dusk, who asked if there was any way to get Okita talking to me again. Ask and ye shall receive, I guess. Anyway, he's been talking and I've been listening. As usual, I don't own any of these people/characters; I'm just borrowing them. And as usual, I'm borrowing somewhat from Peacemaker and Rurouni Kenshin while throwing in dollops of history and my own spin on things. It just makes it fun that way._

Loyalties

The Wandering Pen

Chapter 1

Okita Souji wiped his brow with a stained sleeve, doing more to smear the blood than to actually wipe it off. This skirmish with the Ishin Shishi "Patriots" had been unexpected, but not exactly unwelcome. His men had been getting lazy doing nothing but guarding Shinsengumi Headquarters or walking endless uneventful patrols. The Shinsengumi had killed several prominent Patriot leaders at the Ikedaya and, with forces from Aizu and Satsuma, smashed the Choshu forces during Kinmon No Hen. It had driven the Ishin Shishi deep underground or out of Kyoto entirely, and the city was much quieter for it. Unfortunately, that meant the Shinsengumi hadn't had much fighting to do since, and practice with one's friends wasn't the same as a fight to the death with one's enemies. It was a point he constantly tried to bring home during the practice sessions – the number of new recruits had skyrocketed after Kinmon No Hen, though few of them were truly skilled with a sword. Nagakura and Saito seemed well-pleased with their progress, but the men seemed inordinately fumbled-footed with him. He supposed it didn't matter who taught them as long as it got drilled into their heads far enough that it kept them alive in a real fight.

A sudden wave of dizziness had him putting a hand to the rough stone corner of a nearby wall. A moment later, his stomach rumbled audibly. He'd skipped breakfast that morning as usual and had had nothing more than sweets for lunch. He'd been out with Harada and Todo running errands and he just hadn't been capable of passing the sweet shop without stopping in. He hadn't had more than a cup of tea and a rice ball before heading out for patrol, and that certainly hadn't been enough to fuel him for a fight.

"Time to head back." It was Saito at his elbow looking, if possible, more evil than usual with splatters of blood and gore across his face and uniform, and blood dripping from the long black bangs that straggled over his headband. "Are you wounded?"

"No, of course not, Saito-kun," Okita said cheerfully, straightening. "Are you? That's an awful lot of blood coming from your head."

"Feh. Last guy sprayed like a fountain." Saito sounded annoyed. "As if I'd get hit on the head, ahou.

"Let's get the wounded picked up and head back to Mibu. This is the third group we've run into in two days; looks like they're regrouping and filtering back in. Kondo-soucho should know."

Okita nodded and pulled rice paper from his kimono to wipe the remaining blood off his blade. Saito wouldn't appreciate him not taking care of it, even if it was the Third Unit Captain's second-best sword. He sighed, dropping the soiled paper into the street and sheathing the blade. How he missed his own, damaged, Kiyomitsu Kaga, no longer useful since the tip had broken off at the Ikedaya. This was a good enough blade – nameless, because Saito never named his swords – but it just didn't have the same balance and feel as the Kiyomitsu. It made him feel slow and sluggish. Still, he wasn't forced to use one of those embarrassment blades they gave the new recruits to beat up. It was good of Saito to loan him this one, which was a decent blade. He wouldn't be able to purchase a new one of his own until their back pay came in, and even so, it wouldn't be as good as the Kiyomitsu, but it might be as good as this.

He began to organize his troop and see to transporting the wounded.

***

"How does it look for simultaneous raids in Kita-ku and Gion-ku?" Kondo asked.

"Tight." Hijikata handed his commander the list and gestured with his long-stemmed pipe, smoke describing an arc and then curling above his head. "We're loaning three units to the Mimawarigumi for extra security when the Emperor's guests visit, we've got two on regular patrol, we should have four on this, and that leaves us with one on guard duty here. But allowing for reassignments because of illness or injury in last night's skirmish, we really only have half a unit for guard duty. I can put some of the wounded on if they're not too bad, but I can't send them out on patrol."

"Can we only loan two units to the Mimawarigumi?"

"Not unless you want to piss off Sasaki and, by association, the Shoshidai. And then of course, it will go all the way up to the Shogushoku." Hijikata didn't have to elaborate on what a disaster that would be. The Shogushoku was Matsudaira Katamori, Kyoto's highest military commander and Kondo's direct superior.

"Not really…" Kondo was still staring at the list but seeing instead a schematic of authority and power in Kyoto. The Shoshidai was Matsudaira Sadaaki, younger brother of the Shinsengumi's lord, and one had to be careful negotiating around the lines of family. Additionally, this loan of manpower was supposed to build a little solidarity among the Kyoto military forces, who were having trouble working together. The differences in class between the primarily hatamoto and middle samurai of the Mimawarigumi and the lower samurai, ronin, and peasants that made up most of the Shinsengumi seemed insurmountable, and the two groups had clashed on several occasions. Maybe he should set Itou on the problem – he was the military strategist after all. If he couldn't come up with a way to only send two units to the Mimawarigumi, there simply wasn't a solution. His eyes refocused on the paper in his hand.

"So you're taking Suzuki, Tani, Saito, and Harada."

"Yes. I'll go with Suzuki and Tani in Kita-ku. Saito will lead in Gion-ku – I can trust him to keep a level head – and Harada's spearsmen tend to keep the rabble at a distance, which is important if things get too close there."

"Ito with Matsubara and Takeda on patrol… Good, that'll make them happy planning their strategy on the most efficient way to patrol as much of Kyoto as possible. Nagakura, Todo, and…Inoue?...with me? I'd thought to have Souji along. He shows well, like Nagakura and Todo. Not that there's anything wrong with Inoue…"

"Inoue's level-headed and can balance Nagakura's temper. And yours, if you all get into a heated discussion with anyone. I'd rather not have Okita in a position where he's going to faint on anyone."

"Oh? He's sick? He hasn't seemed like it or said anything."

"As if he would," Hijikata snorted, smoke leaking from mouth and nostrils and making him appear to be the demon many of the recruits whispered that he was. "Saito thought it prudent to say something about him looking ready to collapse after the fight last night. I'm not surprised. You know Souji has never eaten properly in his entire life, and he's been looking positively yellow lately."

Kondo sighed. "If only he had a taste for good food the way he does for sweets. Well, we'll have to gang up on him – if he doesn't eat, he doesn't fight."

"My thought exactly. He can sit here and play guard until he regains some weight. And Yamanami will have better success getting him to do it on a regular basis than the rest of us, once we've given Souji the order."

***

"That is so unfair!"

"We can't have captains fainting from lack of food in the middle of a fight," Hijikata said. "You're on guard duty until you build your strength up."

"But I've eaten this way all my life." Okita turned pleading grey eyes onto Kondo. "Kondo-san, you know it's never affected my work…"

"Well, Souji-kun, it's just that…" He cleared his throat. "It's just that…"

"You almost fainted in the Ikedaya, you almost did it again the other night, and your sword work is off," Hijikata cut in. Kondo never could refuse those big kicked-puppy-looking eyes Okita got when he wanted something badly.

"I can't help that Saito-kun loaned me a left-handed sword!"

Hijikata fixed Okita with a stern glare. "That wasn't an excuse I just heard."

"Uh, no. I was making a joke," Okita said sheepishly.

Kondo's puzzled expression cleared.

"This is a joking matter?" Hijikata let smoke flow out through his nostrils. "I wasn't aware you viewed us that way. I wasn't aware you viewed our work in Kyoto that way."

"No, I don't. Honestly, Fukuchou. You know that." Okita looked like he was having a sudden, horrid flashback to his days at the Shieikan dojo around the time that Hijikata had first appeared there. Already a phenomenal swordsman, at ten years old, Souji – Soujirou, then – had had a hard time convincing any of the adults except the Kondos to take him seriously. It had been a source of endless frustration for him. It had only taken one sparring session for Hijikata to realize the boy was worth being taken seriously, and he'd done so, both in training and in guiding the boy into manhood. He certainly knew Souji well, and he knew when not to give in.

"Then eat properly when it's in front of you!" Hijikata thundered. "It's not like we have it to throw away, you know."

"Yes, Sir. I'll do better, Sir."

From somewhere in the compound, a wooden mallet struck a board, sounding a _tok! tok! tok!_ that carried clearly across the compound and signaling the noon meal.

"With your leave, Sir, I'll go eat," Okita said meekly.

"We'll come with you." Hijikata smirked as Okita's expression wavered between disappointment and alarm. "It's lunchtime for us, too."

***

Two evenings later, Okita stifled a yawn as he circled the compound walls, checking his sentries. He felt like he was going to explode. Not only had he eaten three regular meals under Hijikata's watchful eye, Yamanami had invited him in for tea and sweets after all the troops had left for their various duties and Okita had completed the first round of the walls. He'd drunk so much tea that he'd had to stop at the necessary on each trip around the compound and was so stuffed with sweets that he'd have been snoring on the engawa if it wasn't for the fact that he had to make the rounds. With all the regular meals he'd eaten in the last couple days, he didn't think he'd had so much food in any three-day period in his life, but he did feel better. He'd even had an energetic sparring session with Nagakura earlier that had all the recruits watching avidly and Kondo nodding in approval.

'No dizziness, either,' he thought. 'I guess they're on to something but I still feel like I'm going to barf any minute.' He ran a thumb under his hakama ties, knowing that he hadn't tied them too tight but needing to feel as if he was easing the pressure somehow.

"How's it going, Shimada?" he asked, approaching one of his corporals at the gate.

"Quiet, Kumichou. Same as it's been since July. Well, since we really settled here. Nobody raises too much of a fuss around us anymore."

"Yeah, they always make us walk to find them," Okita agreed. "Don't get complacent. They may surprise us someday."

"No, Sir, we're never that."

Okita had just turned away when there was a sound of running feet approaching, the straw sandals slapping frantically at the cobblestones. The ki was just short of panic, and Souji turned back at once.

"Stop now!" Shimada ordered as the light from the paper lanterns revealed a boy of about twelve or thirteen years.

"Sirs, please!" The boy bent over, gasping, and waved a paper. "I have an urgent message from Matsudaira-sama for Kondo-san."

"Kondo-soucho isn't here," Okita said, stepping forward, but not in the way of Shimada or the other men. If it was a trap, they needed room to attack. For that matter, so did he. "I can take it to Yamanami-fukuchou. He is in charge."

"Please. It's very urgent."

"Taikei, take him back and get him some water. Make him drink slow. I'll see to this." Okita turned towards Yamanami's rooms. "Shimada, keep your eyes open…"

***

Yamanami read the note through twice, took his glasses off and polished them, then read it through again. He was aware of the humming curiosity coming off Okita although the first unit captain was sitting decorously in seiza before him. Yamanami hadn't learned to sense ki as well as some of the other members of the troop, but he didn't need it – he knew Okita. The younger man was a genius with katana, bokken, or shinai; a hard, impatient taskmaster when teaching but who joked often outside the dojo. He rarely spoke much otherwise, although he could when he wanted to. Most of the time he merely listened and thought. What he thought, Yamanami had no idea. Trying to get Okita into a serious conversation on anything other than swordsmanship was a near impossibility. But if there was one thing that would eat the younger man alive, it was curiosity.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to send a note up to the castle for Kondo-san," Yamanami said at last. "It's either that or send a runner out looking for Hijikata-san."

"It'll be hard to find Hijikata-fukuchou, even though we know what general area he's in and it might throw the raid. And Kondo-souchou is very conscious of being in or near the Emperor's court. It might look bad to pull him away. Is this something we can handle here?" Okita gestured at the note.

'Tactful,' Yamanami thought. 'He doesn't want to ask me outright what this is all about, but he really does want to know. I suppose I should tell him. I'd like some advice and he can hardly do that if he is unaware.'

"Matsudaira-sama has an adopted son, a boy about nine years old. The boy has been kidnapped in all the confusion with the Emperor's guests and the Shogushoku's party all coming into the city at about the same time. Matsudaira-sama is requesting our help. They think the kidnappers are Choshuu and that they will head west to get the boy into their domain lands. But at this point they're not sure if they've left the city yet."

"They have." The voice came from above their heads, making Yamanami jump. Okita didn't twitch.

"What do you know, Ashiya?" Okita asked.

"Saw a group of farmer-types heading west out of the city with a kid bedded down in a cart like he was sleeping. Only thing is, that kid had a bit of silk showing under the rough blanket over him, it was too late for a group of farmers to be heading out, two of the men are suspected Ishin Shishi, and there wasn't a woman in the bunch even though one of the men was hunched over and bundled in blankets like a granny. I'm thinking he might have been wounded and they were covering."

"Don't miss much, do you?"

"Try not to. Might be missing my head soon if I don't hustle, though. I got info for Saito-kumichou and if I don't deliver, we might lose a few folks we don't want to. I just thought I'd stop on the way and report because it didn't look right."

"How many men total?" Yamanami asked.

"Half dozen, counting the wounded one. Might be five miles out by now, depending on how bad that one is."

"Thank you. Carry on."

Neither man heard the ninja leave, but Yamanami was aware when Okita's attention focused solely on him, a good enough indication that the spy was no longer there.

"What now?" Okita asked.

"We could send a note to Kondo-san…"

"We'll lose time. Those men may not stop for the night; moon's still good."

"…or send a runner for Hijikata-san."

"Even worse. At least we know for sure where Kondo-souchou is."

"We don't have a troop to send after them. Only half of what is here is in fighting form and we can't leave the compound unguarded."

"Don't send a troop; send one. Me."

"Souji…"

"Yamanami-san, those men are going to be twitchier than fresh-killed frog legs. You send a troop or even half a troop after them and there's no telling what they'll do to that boy. But you send one guy, who looks like one of them, and that one guy won't raise any suspicions."

"You don't look like them."

"I can. Pull a kimono through the yard and get it dirty, leave my swords behind, put my hair down…I can look like an underfed farmer."

"No, you can't leave your swords…"

"I'll have to; farmers don't have swords. I'll just cut me a walking stick."

Yamanami studied the intense face across from him. In his gut, he know Okita was right. Those men could be moving steadily away from the city even now, and they could be capable of anything. And if there was anything that could be done without spilling more blood, he was for it. The mess at Ikedaya on top of their regular patrols had turned his stomach. There had been more blood than rainwater in Kyoto's streets since they'd come to the city. At least with most of Choshu out of town and the rest lying low, the body count had decreased. Yamanami knew it wouldn't last long, but he'd take what he could get and do his best to avoid any more bloodletting.

"Yes, go," he sighed. "I'll take over the rounds. Be careful, Souji."

"Of course." Okita gave him a quick bow before heading to his quarters to change. He tucked a worn tanto into his kimono and a few essentials into his sleeves, but nothing too new or too rich.

"Okita-san…" Tetsu was standing next to the door. "I heard…"

"Eavesdropping, Tetsu-kun?" Okita flashed the short, red-haired teen a grin.

"Not on purpose. Hijikata-fukuchou said I was to serve Yamanami-fukuchou while he was gone and I was bringing tea." Tetsu coughed into his sleeve, a wet, congested sound. "I heard you say you needed a stick."

"Yes, something I can use as a walking stick or as a weapon if necessary."

"I have this one." Tetsu picked up a stick that was leaning against a support post outside. "I kinda used it to practice with before I started working here. It might be a little short…"

It wasn't the kind of walking stick Okita had had in mind, but it wasn't bad. It was a reasonably straight peeled branch, about an inch in diameter, and a little over three feet long. Okita had been thinking more like a staff to lean on, but this would function like a cane, and be much more effective as a weapon because it wasn't far off the length or weight of a bokken without looking like one.

"Thank you, Tetsu, it'll work just fine. In fact, if I bandage a foot and limp a little, it'll be perfect. Can you bring a horse around from the stable? I'm going to ride out of town to save some time. I'll also need a rope and a spike to picket it."

"I could go with you and bring it back."

Okita smiled, understanding the longing in the boy's hoarse voice. He hated being left behind and feeling useless.

"Thanks, but I'm going to leave it out there in case we have to come back quickly. You stay here and take care of that cold."

"Yeah," Tetsu snuffled. "I hate being sick. I'll go get the horse. Back gate?"

"Yep, don't want to advertise I'm leaving. Oh, and see if you can find some supplies, like I was either buying necessities or selling stuff here in Kyoto. And some sake."

"The good stuff for the officers or the cheap stuff for the men?" Tetsu asked knowingly.

"Do we have anything middle-ground? I don't want to look too affluent but, kuso, life's too short to drink cheap sake," Okita grinned. "I just want to appear amiable and harmless."

Tetsu gave him a speaking look.

"What? I can look harmless," Okita protested.

"Okay, you, maybe. The Demon Vice-Commander, no," Tetsu muttered under his breath.

"Riding you hard, huh?"

"As usual. I'll never be the page he wants me to be," Tetsu muttered, turning towards the door.

"Tetsu-kun."

The teenager looked back from the edge of the porch.

"If you weren't the page he wanted, you wouldn't be his page."

Tetsu sighed, coughed, and nodded, and then stepped off the boards, crossing the yard towards the stables.

Okita stopped in the kitchens to ask for bandaging and ended up borrowing a hair ornament from one girl and a bracelet made of tiny bells from another, promising to bring them back. The way they were giggling behind their hands made him think that they wouldn't mind losing the trinkets if he brought himself back to them, and it made him wonder what payment they might expect from the loan. It was the same kind of reaction he always seemed to elicit from girls and not one he understood very well. It wasn't knowing that they liked him that made him uncomfortable, it was that they always seemed to expect more than he was willing to give. He just wasn't as casual about these things as most of the rest of the men were. It was Harada, of all of them, who seemed to understand his dilemma best.

"Don't worry, Souji," he'd say with a knowing grin. "When the right one comes along, you'll know what to do." Sano wasn't the only one of the captains who was married, but he seemed to take that, if nothing else, more serious than the rest.

Okita escaped the kitchen and made his own way to the stables. Tetsu had the horse ready, a rough-looking chestnut gelding with a white stripe down the nose, three white socks, and a heart that wouldn't quit. Various bundles hung from the saddle, which could be used for riding or packing, and perched on the horse's rump was a small medicine chest of the kind with which Hijikata had often traveled the countryside.

"This jug's the sake, so don't bang it into anything," Tetsu said, touching the bag on the left of the saddle. "I thought the medicine chest would make you welcome anywhere, and if the one guy is hurt like Ashiya-san said, it could be an excuse to stop."

'So he'd been around longer than just hearing me mention a stick,' the first unit captain thought.

"Good thinking. I'm going to bandage my ankle, like a sprain, to give me an excuse for having your stick at hand." Okita sat on an overturned bucket and wrapped up his left foot and ankle, leaving just enough room to get in and out of his straw sandals without hanging up.

"There's a little bit of food, like you're on an overnight trip in this one, and some extra tea and sweets like you're bringing some home. A blanket, a change of clothes I stole from the laundry…I couldn't scrounge up much else."

"It'll work. Here, stash these with the stuff I'm taking home." He handed over the ornament and bracelet. "It'll look like I'm taking gifts."

Tetsu's eyebrows shot up and he nearly choked while coughing. "Kohana's bracelet? She must really like you."

"Shut up; I get that from the rest of the guys."

Okita finished adjusting the bandaging and vaulted into the saddle while Tetsu snickered. Nothing like having a girlfriend to make even the fifteen year old feel superior. He'd just have to thump Tetsu hard the next time he got into the training hall.

Half an hour later, he was riding out of the city.

------------------

_Author notes:_

_I hope you've enjoyed it thus far – please let me know! I'm surprised to be writing anything for fun since being this busy at work usually raises blisters on my brain that prevent me from being creative. It's a nice feeling to produce something._

_Vocabulary:_

_Ahou – idiot. One of RK Saito's favorite epithets_

_Bakufu – literally "tent government", run by the Shogun and closely related houses and political partners._

_Bokken – wooden training sword_

_Engawa – the porch that surrounds most Japanese homes_

_Fukuchou – vice-commander_

_Gion-ka and Kita-ka – two districts within the city of Kyoto_

_Hajimemashite – happy to meet you for the first time. You wouldn't use this greeting subsequent times you met that person._

_Hakama – the full skirt or wide-legged split trousers used by swordsmen to hide the movement of their legs_

_Han – a fiefdom, essentially. The domain of a daimyo before the prefecture system was devised._

_Hatamoto – high-ranking samurai; the daimyo's right-hand men_

_Ikedaya – an inn where patriot leaders met to discuss plans to further their cause. The raid by the Shinsengumi set back the Meiji revolution severely._

_Ki – life-force_

_Kinmon No Hen – A retaliatory attack by Choshuu forces against those of Aizu (including the Shinsengumi) and Satsuma because of the events at Ikedaya. The Choshuu forces were heavily outnumbered and paid the price for it._

_Kiyomitsu Kaga – Okita's original sword, made by Kiyomitsu in Kaga province. The tip was broken off during the Ikedaya affair. _

_Kiyosue – a han located next to Choshuu and also part of the insurgency, although rarely mentioned_

_Kumichou – captain_

_Kuso - damn_

_Miburo – a derogatory name for the Shinsengumi_

_Mimawarigumi – A group similar to the Shinsengumi but under the authority of the Shoshidai._

_Miyabe – one of the leaders of the patriots who wanted to set fire to Kyoto, kill Matsudaira, and kidnap the Emperor. He was killed at Ikedaya._

_Ronin – masterless people_

_Seiza – Formal sitting posture – legs folded under, knees together, tops of feet on the floor, and sitting on one's heels_

_Shieikan - Kondo's dojo in the Tama region of Tokyo before he left for Kyoto_

_Shinai – bamboo training sword_

_Shogushoku – Protector of Kyoto – Lord Matsudaira Katamori's official title. This position was created and superimposed over the existing political structure __for the purpose of recovering public order in the city, under the influence of the "patriots". What the Soshidai had not been able to accomplish through the police force and courts, the Shogushoku was to achieve through military means._

_Shoshidai – Governor-General of Kyoto – Lord Matsudaira Sadaaki's official title. He was Katamori's younger brother, and he was __responsible for maintaining good relations and open communication between the shogunate and the imperial court._

_Souchou – commander (although I've seen other words used for this position also. I don't speak Japanese, so if this is wrong, someone please correct me)._

_Tanto – short knife _


	2. Chapter 2

Loyalties

The Wandering Pen

Chapter 2

Five miles from Kyoto, Souji wasn't sure if he wanted more light or less. More light would make darker shadows under the trees but he'd be able to see better in the open. Less light and no one would see him well. The moon was well over to the west, looking a bit like a fat, round hen getting ready to sit on a nest of mountains. It wouldn't be long before the light was gone entirely and he'd have no choice but to camp. The road was dipping slowly down hill, probably heading for yet another small stream. There were many winding down to Osaka Bay from here.

He was letting the gelding pick its own pace now, sitting slumped in the saddle with his feet free of the stirrups as if he were tired. He was, and that had made him change his mind about leaving the horse somewhere and walking in to the kidnappers' camp when he got close. The fresher he was for whatever was to come, the better chance he'd have of success. For now, it was okay to appear tired, but when it came time to act, fatigue would be gone. When the gelding's head lifted and its ears pricked forward, Souji knew someone had to be about. Time to get into his role.

"Who's there?" The voice was rough, and the speaker knew enough to stay in darkness.

"Just this Kaneyoshi, heading home. Got a late start, though." He stopped the gelding and raised his hands. "I was looking for a place to camp, and thought near the stream would be a place or two."

He could see the man now, standing back in the edge of the trees, studying him in the faint light, assessing the simple kimono with the back hem pulled up and tucked in the front of Okita's obi, freeing long, skinny legs to dangle by the horse's sides; long hair pulled into a simple tail down his back; the bundles and box tied to the saddle.

"Is that medicine? Are you a doctor?" the other asked, craning his head to get a better look at the box.

"More of a pharmacist. I make cures from the herbs my wife and I grow and collect and sell them in Kyoto," Okita said. "Not too bad a business right now. Always someone sick or hurt in the city."

"Can you help us? We got in a fight with some thugs and one of my friends got hurt bad."

"If I had a place to put up the horse, I'd see what I could do," Okita said amiably, blessing Tetsu's inclusion of the chest. He'd hung around Hijikata long enough that he knew most of the medicines in it and how to use them.

"We got this campsite, but there's another further upstream, away from the road. Other side's too swampy."

"Okay, if you don't mind me walking through." Not optimal, having them between him and the road, but not too bad. Walking through would give him a chance to check it out and see if this were really the group he was looking for. If it wasn't, he'd have to stay anyway. It was too late to keep going and the fading moonlight was making for impenetrable shadows that made the gelding snort and balk.

"Just keep moving so your horse doesn't take a piss now he's stopped," the other man said, as Souji slung his left leg over the chest on the horse's rump, then held himself above the saddle as he kicked his right foot free of the stirrup and slid down to the ground, wincing as he put his left foot down. "'S'matter with your foot?"

"Ah, got in a tangle in the marketplace when the bloody Miburo strolled through like they owned it," Souji said, sliding the stick from where Tetsu had tied it and limping up to take the horse's bridle. "The way everyone jumps out of the way… Well, I jumped, too, and ended up tripping over a pile of baskets and then into a fruit seller's. Several other people must have done the same. I swear, half the street was down and the other half goggling and the Miburo smirking through the whole thing like they enjoy creating chaos." It hadn't been planned for four of the units to meet at one end of the market the other day, but they had, and they'd had to walk through the market to get back to headquarters. Some of the more nervous Kyoto residents had panicked and they really had taken out half the stalls on the street. The progression of the disaster had been entertaining to watch, and as the first unit captain, Souji had had the best view. Right now, he tried to sound disgusted about the whole thing.

The other man spat. "Damned Miburo."

They were skirting the camp, Souji limping as he led the horse after their guide, his eyes quickly counting and placing men. Three near the fire, one with him – that left two missing. The cart was parked not far from the fire, but Okita couldn't see into it. Its horse whickered as it scented Okita's and the chestnut gelding rumbled a response.

"Who's that, Gen?" asked one of the men near the fire.

"Just a guy looking to camp," Okita's guide said. "But he's got some medicine and he might be able to help Ryozo."

Okita tied the horse to one of the trees and took off the bundles and saddle, placing them out of the way where the horse couldn't step on them. He limped up to the cart a few minutes later, leaning on Tetsu's stick and with the medicine box on his back. The men from the fire approached, one with a flaming stick, holding it high so Okita could see into the boxy little wagon. He could feel Gen keeping an eye on him as they gathered around it. The boy was huddled in a corner, almost completely covered with a blanket. Only a white oval marked his face until the man with the torch held it over the wagon.

'Gotcha,' Okita thought, glancing at him, and didn't need to see the look in the boy's eyes to know he was terrified. He could read the ki of everyone there. Gen was the most complicated – suspicious, nervous, a little greedy, and trying to act friendly. The others more straightforward: mostly nervous and determined. All were worried, but the torch-bearer more than the rest. The wounded man had waves of pain rolling off him so thick he almost drowned out everyone else.

"This your brother?" he asked the boy conversationally, as he pulled back the blanket covering the man. "Or your dad?"

The boy mutely shook his head.

"He's mine," said the man with the torch. "My little brother, Ryozo."

"That's my boy, there," Gen said at the same time.

Okita felt the flare of indignation from the boy, but made no sign he did. The boy huddled deeper into his corner.

The blanket was saturated in blood, as was the man's torso, even though they'd tried to bandage him up. It had a putrid smell that Okita knew all too well. He pulled the blanket back up.

"I need a cup of water," he said quietly, kneeling next to the medicine box and pulling out a square paper packet.

"Can you help him?" the brother asked, as one of the others went for water.

"No, but I can dull the pain. I'm sorry. Whoever attacked him must have perforated the bowel, and there's no way to fix that."

"That's what I thought." The torchbearer had dropped to his haunches next to Okita and spoke quietly. "Actually, I'm surprised he made it this far."

"How far has it been? Did you get attacked on the road?"

"No, in the city. I was trying to get him home, but…" The man shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter. Die there or die here, there's only us two, well…anyway. Nothing to go home to now that the Bakufu has taken everything. Would've liked to have buried him next to the folks and our sisters, but I don't know if he'll last a couple more days of travel."

"If he does, he'll wish he hadn't," Okita said honestly. He stood, hopping on his right foot as if he'd hurt the left again and grabbing the stick for balance, and then poured the contents of the packet in his hand into the cup of water the third man brought, stirring it with a smooth stick from the medicine box.

"What is that stuff?"

"Willow bark and some other things. Stuff that acts together to make a strong pain killer and make him relax. See if you can get him to drink it. It's bitter, but it will help." He handed the cup to the torchbearer and took the torch, holding it high to provide better light. Light that winked off gold threads at the boy's neck as he craned to see what they were doing. As soon as they were done, though, he sank back into his corner. Okita packed up the box again.

"I'm going to put this away and see to my horse, and then I'll check back. That powder should take effect in five or ten minutes, maybe. It should allow him to rest easy, anyway."

"Thanks…I'm sorry, I didn't hear your name."

"It's Kaneyoshi."

"Thank you, Kaneyoshi-sensei. I am Ryoichi. If you need anything, ask." Ryoichi bowed deeply.

Okita returned it, and then picked up the box and limped back to care for his horse. He found a small patch of grass at the edge of the trees, so after letting the gelding drink at the stream, he picketed it on the grass to graze. A quick check on the wounded man, who seemed to be breathing easier, and Okita joined the rest of the men, at their invitation, around the fire. Ryoichi, unsurprisingly, had stayed at the wagon with his brother, but the boy was now sitting slightly behind Gen. He was still wrapped in the blanket and picking at a bowl of rice with a pair of rough chopsticks.

"This is Mamoru," Gen said, pointing to a solid, flat-faced man with no hair on his head except for his eyebrows, and then to a younger man who was handsome despite a long, ropelike scar that traced from the hinge of his jaw to the bridge of his nose. "And this is Takai. This is my boy, Gensaburo, but he don't talk since his mother died. Shigekazu is standing first watch tonight."

"Hajimemashite," Okita said, bowing. Once again, he caught a flash of indignation from the boy. "I am Kaneyoshi. I haven't much, but I'd be willing to contribute to dinner." He'd brought some of the food that Tetsu had packed but had left the sake with the medicine box. Some of the food went into the stew pot hanging over the fire and the rest passed around.

He found himself listening to and smiling at the banter going around the fire. It was obvious that these men had known each other long, and they didn't mind telling stories on each other to a stranger. At one point, Takai returned from wetting down a tree and gave an almost imperceptible sign to Gen, who returned it. Okita pretended not to notice. After that, the leader seemed to relax, and Souji knew that when he returned to his camp, he would find that his possessions had been gone through. He didn't have anything to worry about. None of the supplies the Shinsengumi took into the field were marked, and Tetsu was smart enough to check anything he'd put in. The events at Ikedaya had matured him, at least in the arena of being aware of the details. He still had a bit of a temper, but so did half the troop, and he frequently forgot or ignored his page duties in favor of training, but Okita could hardly blame him for that. When he, Okita, had been fifteen, he'd been all about training, too.

"So where's home?" Gen asked during a lull in the story-telling.

"Oh, a wide spot in the road somewhat northwest of here. Take the right fork where the road splits. It used to be a village, but there's not much left now." Useful, what one learned when one traveled the countryside on one's days off. From the stories they'd been telling, their home place was further west, nearer to Choshu borders.

"You're rice farmers?" Manoru asked.

"Nah, too upland for that. Used to be wheat and barley country, with garden vegetables on the side, but most of the young men left when both sides started calling for recruits. Then there wasn't enough people to work the fields, so some went to Kyoto to find other work, some went to other villages…" Okita shrugged.

"I'm surprised your lord let them."

"There's no one left to stop them. The young lord ran off to join Choshu and the old one died of a broken heart." That's what the innkeeper had said when he'd visited. "The wife and I put in a garden and gather herbs in the mountains. And I know where there's a bee tree. She does some weaving; I take the honey and make medicine, and sell it all in town."

"You're not carrying much back."

"No. She's going to skin me," he said sadly. "But there was this game, and my friend in town said he always wins…"

The other men laughed knowingly.

"You have to watch it when a guy says he always wins but uses your money to gamble with," Takai said. "You remember that guy in Gion-ka, Manoru, who said he could triple your money in one throw?" He winked at Okita as Manoru rolled his eyes. "The 'earth' here fell on him when the money not only didn't triple, it disappeared."

"I think I know that guy," Okita said ruefully, joining in the general laughter.

"Kaneyoshi-sensei?" It was Ryoichi. "Could you come here? Ryozo doesn't sound so good."

Okita picked up his stick and levered himself to his feet. He limped into the dark after the sound of the other man's voice. After a moment, the group around the fire followed, bringing burning brands to light the way. Gen had his hand on the boy's shoulder, guiding, steadying, controlling.

Ryozo's breathing was shallow and raspy, each breath seeming to require a major effort.

'Won't be long now,' Okita thought. Out loud, he said, "I thought he was close."

"Close to what?"

"Crossing over. I would have preferred that the medicine simply let him drift off quietly in his sleep."

Ryoichi's smile was wan. "He never did anything the easy way."

"Or quietly, if it was something he didn't want to do," Takai added, laying a comforting hand on Ryoichi's thin shoulder. "So you know he doesn't really want to go." The chuckle that went around the group was subdued.

"We'll miss you. Go easy, brother," Manoru said, resting his hand on the wounded man's head for a brief moment.

Takai did the same, resting his hand for a moment on the dying man's head and murmuring, "Good journey, brother."

"Can't you do anything?" Ryoichi asked. In the uncertain torchlight, his brown eyes were merely dark, pleading holes.

"No," Okita said gently. "He's at the place where he can only go forward. Say your farewells. I'll be right back."

He limped to his camp and grabbed the jug of sake. He didn't know a better time for such a thing. When he returned, there was another man in the group – Shigekazu, he guessed, called in from guard duty.

Ryozo was breathing in hard rattles, once, twice…then nothing. Ryoichi leaned on the side of the cart, forehead resting against its rough edge for a long moment. Then he reached out and lifted the edge of the blanket, draping it gently over his brother's now peaceful face. His own was a mask of barely controlled grief.

"We'll take him to the next town," Gen said. "It's not far, and there's a priest to say prayers for him." He drew Ryoichi back towards the fire, the others following along and settling into a ring around it. The boy settled to Gen's right, a little behind him to make room for the adults to sit closer to the heat. Okita unstopped the jug and raised it.

"A blessing on all our brothers, and those who may as well be," he said, and took a sip that he made look bigger than it was as the other men nodded. Then he passed the jug to Ryoichi. "Tell me about your brother."

"To my brother." Ryoichi took a mouthful, swallowed, and said, "who was a pain in the butt when we were little but turned out to be a good man." He swallowed again, hard, eyes brimming, and then passed the jug to Manoru.

The big man took a drink, smiled, and said, "He always laughed at Takai's fart jokes."

That elicited laughs from the others who knew him. Takai lifted the jug next. He wiped his lips as he said, "I always told those jokes just to hear him laugh. They weren't that funny, but his laugh would always make me laugh, too. There was just something about it."

After the first round, Shigekazu left to return to his post. After the fourth round, Okita's jug was empty but they produced another and sent it around, telling stories all the while of the kind of things young men get into and laugh about later. Okita did no more than wet his lips. He liked sake if it was really good quality. Plum wine was better, if it was the sweet variety. Tonight, the mission came first, and the sake wasn't worth getting drunk on. He'd save that for an off-night binge with Harada, Todo, and Nagakura. After the sixth round, the boy had curled up in his blanket against the roots of a tree. Okita leaned back and braced himself on his elbows, feet to the fire. When the jug came to him again, he merely wet his lips and let a little trickle from the corner of his mouth and down his neck, wiping ineffectually at it with his sleeve as he passed the jug again. By round eight, Gen was slurring his words, Takai was sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees and chin cupped in his hands, staring cross-eyed into the fire. Manoru took a drink, lost his sentence somewhere in the middle, took another drink, lost the sentence again, then shrugged and passed the jug on. As they started round twelve, Okita was wondering if there was another jug somewhere, and if it would be necessary. Ryoichi, the scrawniest man in the lot, was the only one still coherent.

"…And then Father was so mad he said 'Go off and join the bloody Bakufu and their Shinsengumi dogs and be damned to you' and we didn't see Ryoji again." He made to pass the jug to Manoru and seemed surprised to see him and Takai propping each other up, apparently passed out. Gen was flat on his back and snoring. "Looks like it's you and me, Kane…Kane…san. So that's what happened to second brother. You know how you kinda hope for something and dread it at the same time? That's how I felt about going to Kyoto. Thought I'd run into Ryoji and didn't know what I'd say. Still my brother, you know." He gestured wildly with the jug and Okita thought it a lucky thing that it was almost empty. If it had spilled into the fire, it would have rivaled Miyabe's plans to torch Kyoto.

"Yep. Never had a brother; only sisters."

"Not the same."

"Nope. Had to get my brothers second-hand."

"How'd you manage that?" Ryoichi took another pull from the jug and then looked at it, confused. He turned it upside down, and then held it up over his head, peering into the hole. "I think we're out."

"Sisters got married. Good sorts. Got better friends; like brothers. The kid got brothers?" Okita gestured at the pile of blanket against the tree.

"The kid? Dunno. We just got him…"

"Not really Gen's then, huh?"

"Uh…nah. Some rich guy. We didn't get much for the stuff we brought in so there we were riding out of town and there was this whole mass of people crowding the street. Emperor's friends, Shogun's envoys…people everywhere. Then Gen says 'I know, ransom' and he grabs this kid from the back of a pony and takes off. So we took off, too. You shoulda heard the racket the cart made. Hooo! But there were these guards and we had to fight them. That's when Ryozo got hurt. So we got him in the cart before he collapsed and wrapped him up… There wasn't time for anything else. My poor little brother! Don't know how we got out without every soldier in the city after us. That's what Shigekazu is looking for."

"Like any bunch of bureaucrats, they're probably trying to figure out who's juris…jury…I thought I knew that word. Whoever has the authority to send out…whoever."

"I thought the whole Shinsengumi would be after us, but Gen says they don't leave the city."

"Then why is Shigekazu watching?"

"'Cause they might send someone else. Gen is very smart."

"That's why I figured out it's you," Gen said. He was on his feet in a flexing snap of his body. It certainly wasn't something he'd just learned.

"Let me guess, you're the local fencing instructor for your town," Okita said calmly, not moving.

"For my _han_," Gen replied, stepping around the fire. In his hand was a sword, taken from under the blanket on which he'd been sitting.

"Kiyosue's best," Takai said, also standing up with sword. Manoru joined him, smiling and not saying anything.

'Kiyosue; figures,' Okita thought. 'Right butt-up against Choshu and sharing the same head family.' He looked around the fire. Ryoichi was the only one who looked even slightly befuddled. "Well," he said. "Looks like we just wasted a whole lot of sake."

***

_Vocabulary:_

_Bakufu – literally "tent government", run by the Shogun and closely related houses and political partners._

_Gion-ka and Kita-ka – two districts within the city of Kyoto_

_Hajimemashite – happy to meet you for the first time. You wouldn't use this greeting subsequent times you met that person._

_Han – a fiefdom, essentially. The domain of a daimyo before the prefecture system was devised._

_Ikedaya – an inn where patriot leaders met to discuss plans to further their cause. The raid by the Shinsengumi set back the Meiji revolution severely._

_Ki – life-force_

_Kinmon No Hen – A retaliatory attack by Choshuu forces against those of Aizu (including the Shinsengumi) and Satsuma because of the events at Ikedaya. The Choshuu forces were heavily outnumbered and paid the price for it._

_Kiyosue – a han located next to Choshuu and also part of the insurgency, although rarely mentioned_

_Miburo – a derogatory name for the Shinsengumi_

_Miyabe – one of the leaders of the patriots who wanted to set fire to Kyoto, kill Matsudaira, and kidnap the Emperor. He was killed at Ikedaya._


	3. Chapter 3

Loyalties

The Wandering Pen

Chapter 3

"I do have to wonder, though," Okita continued, "just what our leaders in Choshu are going to think about this. I mean, after the mess at Ikedaya and the total massacre of the Kinmon No Hen, all of the daimyo are trying so hard to apologize, they have tatami burns on their foreheads. Now you guys decide to kidnap the adopted son of Matsudaira-sama. That is who he is, right? Everyone was talking about it when I left. All of Choshu is going to have to commit seppuku to make up for this one."

Gen, Takai, and Manoru exchanged glances. Ryoichi stifled a belch.

'Well that stopped them,' he thought with satisfaction. 'You can almost see the mental abacus working.'

"We could take him back," Ryoichi offered hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah, good idea. Give them a chance to finish off the rest of the family." Souji snorted with contempt, shaking his head and ignoring the sudden pain on Ryoichi's face. "Bunch of damned amateurs," he muttered. "Katsura-san leaves town and the idiots take over."

That was a guess. No one knew where Katsura was, although the Bakufu spies had been busy trying to find him. All they'd found so far was a double handful of places he had been or might have been, and no one at those places had known anything valuable. If nothing else, the Bakufu had kept him moving and made him earn the nickname "Running Kogoro".

"So, what, you take him back?" Gen challenged.

"Me? Hell, no. I show up with the kid and they'll think I'm one of you. I'm not getting my head lopped off for you."

Gen laughed. "Nice try, but you're still not one of us."

Okita let his eyebrows rise but didn't answer.

"Oh, you talk a good line and your delivery is smooth, but you saw the sign and you didn't return it. You just pretended not to notice. Thought I had him checking up on your gear, huh? I did, but you should have returned the sign anyway."

"Oops," Okita deadpanned. He rolled away from Ryoichi, walking stick in his hand. When he came up, the demon was loose. The mild, soft-spoken man had disappeared, the misty grey eyes had changed, and the limp was gone. This man was focused to the point where his attention was like a physical blow, eyes hardened to steel, movements fluid and fast.

Steel against wooden bokken usually wasn't a good match, but it could be done. The trick was to never let the edge of the steel blade meet wood. Every block came against the flat of the sword, every attack could be turned at the last second to block and avoid. All of them were calculated to lock up the deadlier weapon if a clean hit wasn't possible and then use weight and leverage against the opponent. Okita was taller than average and he used every advantage it gave him. Kondo-sensei the Elder had had him practice this way against the others in the Shieikan dojo from the time he was a teenager, to give him a challenge and to keep the other students from being beaten too badly by the young prodigy. Souji had loved it, and the bare-toothed grin he wore now showed the spirit of the Wolves of Mibu.

The walking stick deflected Gen's initial attack and slid up the flat of his blade. The force of Okita's shoulder threw the other man off balance. Souji spun off of him and slapped sideways at Takai's weapon, driving the blade into the ground, and then whipped back in a horizontal swing that rapped the handsome man across the head above the ear. It opened the skin in a crimson fan and laid the man flat on the ground just inches from the fire. He didn't move again. Okita used the momentum to throw his body into a handless cartwheel that narrowly avoided both the fire and Ryoichi, who hadn't moved. It got him out of the way of Manoru, jumping Takai's prone body, and the recovered Gen, who was charging back into the fray. Gen was able to turn fast enough so that Manoru wouldn't hit him, and re-engaged with Souji in a series of swift blows that left one of the Shinsengumi captain's unconfined kimono sleeves in tatters but didn't otherwise harm him. Souji's grin grew wider. Gen was good – worthy of his position in the han – but not good enough.

The two slid away from each other a couple paces and Souji dropped his hands so that the stick angled away from his body in a guarding position. Then he widened his stance by sliding his left foot out and dropping the shoulder on the same side. Gen lunged at the apparent opening, but Okita was quicker, a sharp, jabbing thrust to the left chest that literally lifted the heavier man off his feet and dropped him onto his back a body length away from where he'd been standing. Manoru leaped the unmoving form of his friend with a roar, swinging his sword in a move so broad Souji couldn't fail to know where it would land. He blocked the side of the blade with the stick and spun off it, slamming the man in the back of the head with a single, backhanded blow. The big man went down like a felled tree.

Instinct kept Souji moving, avoiding blows that had seemed to come from an unknown opponent until he realized that Shigekazu had abandoned his watcher post to assist in the fight. They squared off briefly and then Okita lunged in with a series of blows – left shoulder, right shoulder, center of the chest – so quick that they almost seemed to be one move. Shigekazu went down like his friends had. Okita turned back to the fire, taking deep, quiet breaths.

Ryoichi was still sitting cross-legged, arms wrapped loosely about the empty sake jug in his lap. "I'm a farmer, not a fighter," he said. "Certainly not of the skill it would take to keep up with you. Take the boy and go; he's what you came for, isn't he?"

"Yes," Okita said.

"Then go, and go quick. He left a minute or two ago while you were fighting. Went that way." Ryoichi pointed in the direction of Okita's camp.

"I didn't kill any of them," Souji said.

"I'll take care of them." He sighed. "Ransom was a stupid idea anyway. Thank you for my brother."

Okita bowed and headed for the woods.

When he reached the other campsite, Nobunori was still trying to get the saddle on the chestnut gelding. The horse snorted and sidled, tossing his head and making the boy chase him round and round the picket pin. Okita leaned against a tree and watched the starlit clearing for a few minutes, until Nobunori was almost weeping with frustration.

"It helps if you offer him a treat," he said, straightening and approaching, reaching into his kimono for a small, paper-wrapped bundle. Odd, how in the fight it had never been crushed and hadn't fallen out.

Nobunori dropped the saddle and then backed up a couple paces. Okita simply pulled a sweet from the bundle and offered it to the gelding, which swept it from his palm with a long pink tongue and then stood quietly munching as Okita picked up the saddle and efficiently strapped it on. Then he loaded the rest of his gear; medicine box on the back, bedroll on the front, with the bags of things Tetsu had supplied hanging to either side. He slid the walking stick through the obi around his waist. Only then did he look back at the boy, who had stood watching.

"Are you okay?" Okita asked, kindly.

The boy nodded, but he was still shaking and fear was strong in his ki.

"Are you sure?"

"You're really not Ishin Shishi, are you? They said they'd send their assassin after me if I tried to escape, but you fought them and you don't look like what they said."

"Really?" Okita asked, intrigued. Though they'd noticed the effects of the assassin for over a year now, they really didn't have much information on him. Saito had thought that he had caught sight of the man briefly once, but could only say that he'd thought the shadow was oddly colored and that he'd be more likely to recognize the ki first, assuming the assassin was careless enough not to shield himself. A team of ninja was working on eliminating him, but no information or indication of progress had gotten back to headquarters. "Do you mean Battousai?" he asked, just to clarify.

Nobunori started and looked around, the fear in his ki spiking. "Yes," he whispered. "They said he can kill people so fast, they don't have time to scream. They don't even know he's there."

"It does seem that way," Soujji said.

"You've seen him?"

"Not to know him. I've seen his victims." Souji could see the boy's shudder from where he stood.

"His sword cuts through bone like it's paper…"

"So does mine. It's all in how sharp you keep your sword and how good your technique is. That's not very unusual."

"They said he was part demon and ten feet tall. He has hair of fire and yellow eyes like a wolf, and he can walk on the wind and even disappear."

"Well, then, you can see that's not me," Okita said cheerfully, though in the back of his mind, he was filing away information. How much of that was poetical nonsense to scare the boy and how much truth was in it, he didn't know, but he could bet Yamanami-san could tease something they could use out of it. "You'll be safe," he continued. "We don't think Battousai is in Kyoto anymore."

The boy looked around, fear unabated. "We're not in Kyoto anymore, either," he whispered.

Okita mentally smacked himself in the middle of the forehead. "We will be soon, if you want a ride home," he said, gesturing at the horse. He helped the boy onto the front of the saddle, wrapping his blanket around him against the chill of the night air, and then swung up behind him. The gelding stepped out willingly.

"We of the Shinsengumi are said to be demons, too," he said, once they'd put some distance between them and the camp. "Good demons, who protect the Emperor and the Shogun and the people of Kyoto."

Nobunori's head craned around and looked up at him. "You're Shinsengumi? Then you work for my father."

"That's right."

"My father told me all about you. I know the names of all the captains of all the units and their commanders. And their sword styles. I mean, which schools they learned in, not that I can do them myself. I'm just starting to learn the shinai. It's…not as exciting as I thought it would be. I thought we'd be using real swords. Which unit are you in?"

"I'm captain of the first unit." Okita tried to tamp down the dragon of pride that was suddenly roaring in his breast. Nobunori stomped on it for him.

"No you're not, that's Okita Souji-san."

Okita laughed. "That's who I am – Okita Souji Fujiwara No Kaneyoshi. That's my full name."

"But you didn't use it." Nobunori's voice was accusatory.

"Of course not. I couldn't tell the Ishin Shishi that, could I? I may not be ten feet tall with hair of fire, but they know my name."

"No, I guess not," the nine-year-old conceded.

"Good, I'm glad you approve."

"Your sword is a Kiyomitsu from Kaga, isn't it? Can I see it?" Nobunori asked eagerly. "Father has been teaching me a lot about swords, and a Kiyomitsu is very good, right? Some day, when sensei says I'm ready, we will use real swords."

"Ah, I don't have it with me, but it was a fine sword until it broke." Okita wondered briefly if there was a polite way of telling Lord Matsudaira not to talk so much. Servants had ears, after all, and if Nobunori knew so much, who knew what leaked out to the Ishin Shishi.

"It broke?" Nobunori's eyes were round. The concept of a sword breaking obviously had never occurred to him. At least that information hadn't leaked out in the last three months.

"Yes. It was at Ikedaya, which was a hard fight and in the dark. A lot of the time we were sensing our opponents more than we were seeing them, which a really good swordsman should always master. But it was hard on the poor Kiyomitsu, and several other swords, too. I will have to save to buy a new one, but I think it will never be as good."

"Is that why you're not carrying a sword now? Why would they send you on an assignment without a sword?"

"Because I volunteered. Farmers don't carry swords, you know." He laughed. "Well, most don't. That's why I brought the stick, to use as a bokken. The shape is different, but I can compensate for that, so it worked well. If you want to be a great swordsman, you should master shinai and bokken as well as katana and wakizashi. Don't just look at them as a training tool until you can get to better things. Mastering many weapons gives you versatility and allows you to fight well even without a traditional weapon in hand."

Nobunori smiled. "And that's why you're first captain."

Okita laughed again. "Possibly. Either that, or Kondo-soucho really likes me."

"But Okita-san, Father and sensei both say that a samurai's sword is part of his soul. If your sword is broken…"

"Then my soul is damaged? Well, maybe. But when I can buy a new one, I will ask Bishamonten to bless it, and me, too. It'll be okay." Okita smiled reassuringly and winked. "I'm pretty lucky."

Nobunori was quiet for a little while and then asked, "Are you sure the assassin isn't around here?"

"Pretty sure. Even if he was, you're safe with me. He'd never get past me. I'd never let anyone harm you."

Satisfied, Nobunori settled down and dozed against Okita's chest, and the gelding walked on into the dawn. The pace had slowed considerably by the time they got back to Kyoto, and Okita sympathized with his horse. It had been a long day followed by a long night. All he wanted was a bath and a futon. Maybe even food. The smell of breakfast in the air was tempting.

"Hey, it's Sou-kun! You're back!"

The shout brought Nobunori awake with a start and brought Souji out of the kind of resting meditation that he could do almost anywhere to remain alert while shutting out the unimportant. The man approaching them was short, dressed in nondescript kimono and hakama with paired swords tucked through the ties, and had an open, boyish face that didn't look the least bit frightening. Unlike most samurai, he wore his hair short on the sides and back, with a longer set of unruly bangs that fluffed out over his eyes. A taller, rough-looking man was beside him, koi-patterned kimono belted loosely around a narrow waist and appearing ready to slide off broad shoulders, unbound black hair looking uncombed also, and three days growth stubbling his chin. "We were worried about you, but it looks like you were successful."

"I did okay. Why would you be worried about me?" he asked with a chuckle.

"'Cause you're our favorite, why else?" Nagakura had moved closer and placed a staying hand on the horse's neck. Harada casually kept an eye on the street. "You might want to check in with Katchan. He's up at the lord's house," Nagakura said in a low voice.

"We'll go there first, then."

"All right, then. Since you don't need us – off to breakfast. See you later!" Nagakura slapped the gelding on the rump and backed off, he and Harada heading off up a side street.

'Harada's wife is probably cooking breakfast,' Souji thought, 'and they'll play with Shigeru for a while before going back.' Harada doted on his new son and many in the troop were also indulgent. Few of the other captains had family nearby.

"Who were they?" Nobunori asked.

"Second captain speaking; tenth watching. Best not to use names on the street or I'd have introduced you."

"But they used a name. Two, really."

"We have pet names for each other. We know who we mean, even if no one else does."

"I wanted to see your headquarters," Nobunori said, as Okita turned the horse up the broad lane that led to the house Matsudaira had taken for his base.

"Maybe on another day your father can arrange it. We should get you home to reassure him you're okay. Actually, there's been talk about moving us out of the village. I don't really want to go, but we're out of room and the location's not as good as the leaders would like. If we do go, I'll miss the kids."

"You'll miss the kids?" Nobunori's voice was frankly unbelieving, and Okita smiled. Most grown-ups didn't pay children much mind unless they were misbehaving. Okita could remember wondering if they knew he was there at all, in those days before the Shieikan dojo. Once he'd started training there, he'd made sure they knew when he was around. But he'd started so young and trained so hard that he'd missed a lot of being a kid himself.

"Sure. We fly kites and play ball… We've even taught my pet piglet, Saizo, to push the ball with his snout and we run after him and try to kick it away with our feet. He's pretty defensive about it, too, so he trips us up all the time. He doesn't know where he's going with it, but once he's got it, it's his."

"You have a pet pig?"

"Sure. He's very smart."

"Isn't it dirty?"

"Nope; I give him baths, and he likes them. He swirls the water around with his snout and blows bubbles. And he'll fetch a thrown bone just like a dog after a stick. He's pretty funny." Okita wondered what the Lord of Aizu's reaction would be if he was suddenly petitioned by his heir to have a pet pig. Nobunori seemed to be on the edge of hero-worship, and might consider emulating him. At least he knew of several worthy candidates for the post. Saizo's numerous siblings might be happy at having a position that didn't include a primary role at dinner.

At the estate's main gate, he swung off the gelding and bowed to the men guarding it.

"I am Okita Souji, and I would like to speak to Kondo Isami-souchou, if he is present." He put all the authority he possessed into it while keeping it polite, but the men still looked him up and down insolently.

"One of the Miburoshi? You can wait just like he is," one sneered, taking in the soiled, rumpled kimono with a stick thrust through the belt, the grass-stained bandaging on one foot, and the long hair straggling out of the tie at his nape. Someone behind that man muttered something about "stupid country samurai".

Souji walked forward until his face was mere inches from the other's and said very quietly, "My friend, I'm tired and I'm hungry and I'm not fooling around. I don't want an audience with the lord, I want a message sent to my commander to inform him that I need to speak to him. If you don't send someone right now, I'm going to hit you hard enough to show off what you had for breakfast yesterday." His hand lightly caressed the butt of the stick.

The guard paused for a moment to assess the silver glitter in his opponent's eyes and then motioned to one of the others to carry the message while he, himself, carefully backed up a couple paces. Okita smiled, a closed-lipped version of the one he'd shown while fighting Nobunori's kidnappers. It made the guard step back another pace.

"Thank you," Okita said politely, and returned to his place near the horse's head, keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings and making the remaining guards nervous.

After ten minutes, Kondo strode down the path, his broad face beaming as he caught sight of Souji and his charge.

"Souji-kun! You were successful, as we knew you'd be. This must be the young lord."

Okita helped the boy off the horse and then made the introductions. "Matsudaira Nobunori-sama, may I introduce to you Kondo Isami-soucho? He will see you safely to your father from here."

---

_Author Note:_

_Big thanks to Omasuoniwabanshi for her insights on the draft version of this story. I'm hoping my revisions have given it the polish it needed. If you're enjoying this, please let me know. It appears to be generating so little interest that I simply can't tell. Thanks, Pen. _

_Vocabulary:_

_Bakufu – literally "tent government", run by the Shogun and closely related houses and political partners._

_Bishamonten – one of the Seven Lucky Gods, in this case, the God of Warriors_

_Bokken – wooden training sword_

_Fukuchou – vice-commander_

_Han – a fiefdom, essentially. The domain of a daimyo before the prefecture system was devised._

_Ikedaya – an inn where patriot leaders met to discuss plans to further their cause. The raid by the Shinsengumi set back the Meiji revolution severely._

_Ki – life-force_

_Kinmon No Hen – A retaliatory attack by Choshuu forces against those of Aizu (including the Shinsengumi) and Satsuma because of the events at Ikedaya. The Choshuu forces were heavily outnumbered and paid the price for it._

_Kiyomitsu Kaga – Okita's original sword, made by Kiyomitsu in Kaga province. The tip was broken off during the Ikedaya affair. _

_Kiyosue – a han located next to Choshuu and also part of the insurgency, although rarely mentioned_

_Kumichou – captain_

_Miburo – a derogatory name for the Shinsengumi_

_Ninja – spies_

_Shieikan - Kondo's dojo in the Tama region of Tokyo before he left for Kyoto_

_Shinai – bamboo training sword_

_Souchou – commander (although I've seen other words used for this position also. I don't speak Japanese, so if this is wrong, someone please correct me)._

_Tatami - __a traditional type of Japanese flooring made of rice straw to form the core with a covering of woven soft rush straw,_


	4. Chapter 4

Loyalties

The Wandering Pen

Chapter 4

When Souji approached the gates at Mibu Temple, shouts were ringing out from the dojo where Saito was teaching kendo. The guards at the gate were from the 5th and 8th units, one with a bandage around his head and the other with an arm in a sling. Both bowed as he rode through and he waved cheerfully. Tetsunosuke jumped off the engawa near Hijikata's room and ran out to greet him and pepper him with questions.

"…and the Oni-fukuchou wants to see you right away," he finished.

Okita chuckled. "He's been on you again, huh? I was going to get cleaned up first."

"I just lit the fire under the furo for you, so it'll take some time to warm up."

Okita's eyebrow went up. "How did you know I was back? I just came in."

"Suzumu-san saw you coming into town. We had a watch set up in case you needed help. Here, I'll take your horse."

"Give him lots of oats. He worked hard. Thanks for the medicine box - it was pretty handy. And if you don't mind putting things back where they came from…"

"Including the girls' jewelry?" Tetsu asked slyly.

"That's part of 'things'," Okita said blandly. Honestly, the way everyone around here assumed he didn't like women was starting to get annoying. He just didn't like overly forward women, and that seemed to be the only kind they ever attracted. Well, and geisha, too, but he didn't like overly practiced women, either. Sweet, honest, competent women, like his sisters. That's what he liked. He was uncomfortable with any other kind.

"Why don't you do it?" Tetsu's voice was just short of taunting.

"Because I have to meet with the oni-fukuchou, remember? You don't want to make me late, do you?" Okita's superior smile turned to a laugh as Tetsu blanched and hurried away with the horse. It was good to outmaneuver Puppy Boy. Not that it didn't happen on a regular basis - Tetsu was notoriously transparent - but if he ever couldn't, it might be time to consider seppuku.

"Hijikata-san! Oh, and Yamanami-san, too. Two of my favorite people!" he sang out as he entered Hijikata's room. The playful sparkle in his eyes gave them the look of a misty morning with the sun just starting to peek through. The fog of smoke from Hijikata's pipe helped with the illusion.

"Souji-kun, you're back earlier than I expected," Yamanami smiled, pushing up his glasses.

"Report!" Hijikata rapped.

"Toshi-san, you're so business-like." Okita leaned over to give the Demon Vice-Commander a quick hug, just to be extra annoying. It looked like Hijikata had woken up on the wrong side of the futon again. The man was positively grumpy in the morning. "You need to relax a bit."

"Gah! Go sit over there; you stink. What did you do, have the horse drag you there and back after a four day drinking binge?"

"Well, I was going to clean up first, but someone ordered me to report."

There was a scratch at the door and with permission, the kitchen girls brought in trays with breakfast. Kohana, a moon-faced girl with sly eyes and pouty lips, jingled her bracelet a little more noticeably around Souji as she served him.

"What was that all about?" Hijikata muttered after they'd left.

"I have no idea," Okita said quickly. Maybe too quickly, based on Yamanami's smile.

***

Three hours later, he was awakened by a loud voice calling his name and a hand shaking his shoulder.

'Kondo-san's voice,' he thought muzzily. 'Did I oversleep? Am I late for practice?'

The hand had left off shaking and had pulled him into a sitting position by a grip in the collar of his sleeping yukata. He managed to remain that way even when the fist had let go.

"What?" he mumbled. A kimono hit him in the face, almost knocking him back again.

"I said, get dressed." Hakama in dark blue with thin white stripes followed the kimono. "Matsudaira-sama wants to meet you."

"Huh?"

Kondo stepped behind him and wrapped bear-like arms around his chest, heaving him to his feet. "Damn, Souji, you're not usually this hard to wake."

"Probably because he's only been asleep an hour," Hijikata drawled, leaning against the doorway. "What's the rush?"

"If the Daimyo wants to meet him, he's got to go."

"I'm sure he'll make a good impression, exhausted like he is," Hijikata snorted. "You should have delayed."

"You don't delay daimyo," Kondo said. "Is that fundoshi clean?" His question to Okita was anxious and slightly distracted.

"Yes, Kondo-san. I put it on after my bath and I've been too tired to even fart in it." Souji blinked at his commanding officer and then at Hijikata, who was trying not to laugh. "I can't believe I just said that. I've been hanging around Sano too much."

"Don't say it to Matsudaira-sama," Hijikata advised, giving in.

"Thanks, I won't. Nice to know I get sound advice from my commanders." Souji was smiling and shaking his head as he tied the hakama in place. He caught the distinctive Shinsengumi haori as Kondo tossed it to him, light blue with white, triangular "mountain stripes" down the edge of the sleeves.

"Here, tie your hair up or Matsudaira-sama will think we employ girls." Hijikata grabbed the long swath of damp hair and held it up until Souji could find a tie and do it up in the high tail that many of the younger generation of samurai preferred.

"We do employ girls," Kondo said.

"All right, he'll think we employ cross-dressers."

"We do that, too," Okita grinned, and swayed back as Hijikata threw a half-hearted punch at him.

"Don't forget your swords." Kondo had swept up the Kiyomitsu and wakizashi from their stand.

"The Kiyomitsu's broken," Okita reminded him, nodding at the sword he'd been borrowing from Saito.

"So? It looks better. And you're going to meet Matsudaira-sama, not fight him."

When they left the compound five minutes later, Souji was awake, if not rested, and dressed in full regalia. Half his troop filed in behind them as an honor guard, and as they strode through the city, he was reminded of the disaster he'd described to Gen. At least it wasn't repeating itself today.

The gate guards at Matsudaira's estate were the same as when he'd been there earlier, and he knew the obnoxious one recognized him by the sudden flare of panic in the man's ki. Souji just told Shimada to give the men the order to stand and wait, and then followed Kondo and their escort through the gates as the orders rang out behind him. He didn't spare any of the guards a second glance.

Of course they had to wait. Even though they were there at the Lord's order, it didn't mean Lord Matsudaira was practicing his calligraphy while waiting for Kondo to return. A steady stream of officials and secretaries went in and out of the room. The shoji were rarely closed for longer than ten minutes before one group would go out and another would go in. Okita stood for a while, but when lack of sleep really started catching up to him, he leaned against one of the pillars and watched the comings and goings through drowsy, half-closed eyes. Then the shoji opened again and Kondo's hiss brought Souji upright, blinking with an attempt at alertness.

Lord Matsudaira was seated on a platform at the end of the room, in formal dress of heavy silk. Unlike many more flamboyant daimyo, the only embroidery he sported was the mon of his family on each breast – a circle from which three hollyhock leaves appeared to grow, the tips almost touching in the center. His face was long and narrow, with a proportionately long nose and full lips. He wore his hair in the traditional tonsure and topknot, and it made his ears seem to stick out like small fans. Nobunori was seated on a lower platform slightly in front of him, and Matsudaira leaned forward for a short, low-voiced conversation that was over by the time Okita and Kondo stopped at the requisite distance and made their formal bows, finally sitting upright in seiza to await the lord's pleasure. Okita couldn't resist a wink and a faint half smile at Nobunori, who was looking entirely too rested and excited for all he'd been through. But when he returned his attention to Lord Matsudaira, he had the feeling the lord had noted the exchange, brief as it had been.

It took a surprisingly short time to get through the pleasantries before Matsudaira was grilling Souji on the particulars of the mission. Okita stuck to the facts, and went with bare-boned ones at that, but the probing questions made him realize two things: Nobunori must have told his adopted father everything in exacting detail and Lord Matsudaira was nobody's fool. Of course, to walk the thin line between committed success and over- or under-extended failure in controlling the political situation in volatile Kyoto took someone with a fair amount of skill. He went over the entire twelve hours or so from the time they'd gotten the message to the time he'd turned the boy over to Kondo, recalling details of accent, wording, dress, and equipment that he'd noticed without consciously thinking about them at the time.

"You are certain he was the fencing instructor for the han?"

"Yes, Sir, he was very definite about that," Souji said, while Kondo tried to hide a smile. "In fact, he was very proud of it."

"And you find this amusing, Commander?"

"Actually, yes, Sir. Souji's been besting fencing instructors from other han since he was twelve." There was not inconsiderable pride in Kondo's voice. After all, he and his father had trained the younger man.

Matsudaira's only reaction was a slight raising of one eyebrow. Nobunori's delighted grin and shining eyes were more gratifying.

"And did you kill these vermin from Kiyosue?"

"Well, no, Sir, I didn't. You see, I had no sword because I was trying to appear to be a farmer, lower class merchant…somebody just trying to get by. I didn't have a real bokken, either, only a wooden walking stick that I could use like a bokken, but since I didn't know the strength of the wood and I had several foes to fight, I opted for simply knocking them out. Had I used the strength necessary to kill them, I might have broken my stick and compromised the mission. I apologize for having taken no more revenge than that for your honor."

That was the truth as far as it went. He had no intention of saying that he understood those men. He understood friends that were closer than family – he had that, too. Kondo was the father figure who led the group, Yamanami and Hijikata the older brothers who guided that he listened to, and the three jokers – Harada, Nagakura, and Todo – were the brothers he played and argued with. Saito was somewhere between the latter two groups, since he was mature enough to pay attention to and too serious not to tease. Even the Ichimura boys were becoming little brothers. He understood the emotions, too. The anger, frustration, and fear of the kidnappers were what he saw frequently in the streets of Kyoto, and while it didn't make their actions right, he knew all about the leader making the decision and the others following. It was why he and the rest had followed Kondo to Kyoto. They were family. They stuck together.

Matsudaira eyed him thoughtfully. "One does wonder, then, why you ventured into such a situation knowing that your weapon was so inferior."

Definitely not a fool. "Well, my original plan involved extracting your son by stealth, but as I rode, I realized that that approach presented some problems. If your son was wounded or too tired to go very far, it made sense to keep the horse along instead of picketing it out somewhere. I also thought that they would be further out than they actually were, based on what our spy had said. They probably camped early because of the wounded man's condition, although no one actually said. He was in a bad way when I got there."

"And though he was an enemy, you gave him medicine."

"It helped with the cover story, and allowed me closer. It would have been kinder to cut off his head, but…" Okita shrugged. "That wouldn't have gone over well. I'd thought that with his passing, I could get everyone happily drunk and unconscious and then sneak out, but they were already on to me by then. So then it was the next plan – fight them and make them unconscious, and then leave. That one worked."

"And if it hadn't?"

"Then I would have found a way to kill whoever got in the way. And then leave. I had a tanto or I could have sacrificed the stick and picked up one of their weapons, even something from the fire, but none of them were that good. I apologize for not killing them."

Matsudaira snorted. "Nonsense. You had several possible plans ready for whatever situation you might have met. You showed prudence and good judgment in freeing my son and seeing first to his safety. For this, you have my thanks and my high regard. To show my appreciation…"

He motioned to one of his hatamoto, an older samurai with excruciatingly rigid posture who bowed and approached Okita, a long bundle resting across his hands. He bowed to Okita, dropped to his knees, and laid the bundle in front of the Shinsengumi captain. He bowed again from his knees to Okita, then stood and bowed deeply to Matsudaira, and then backed off to the edge of the room again. Nobunori was leaning so far forward on his cushion in anticipation that Souji thought he might fall over. Embarrassing, to be sure, but maybe not so much as not knowing whether it was proper to open the present now or merely thank Matsudaira and open it later. He'd never received a gift from a daimyo before.

"You may look at it," Matsudaira said, with some amusement as he caught the sidelong glances between Okita and Kondo.

Okita lifted it a little closer and then untied the cord binding heavy silk around it. He pushed back the material and found, as he'd suspected from the shape and weight, a sword. It was sheathed in plain black lacquer, the grip wrapped in rayskin and black silk cord.

"Bring it out, so we may all admire its beauty," Matsudaira said softly.

Okita lifted it and started to pull the blade free, but the first thing he noticed was the artistic pattern of the hamon, which looked like three wavy lines with evenly spaced figures that appeared to be a fan on the middle line. Or a floating half-flower… It prompted him to look at horimono in front of the tsuba. Usually carvings of deities or mythical figures for ceremonial swords, this one had a tiny Imperial chrysanthemum crest.

"Kiku-ichimonji…" he gulped and slid it back home. He set it back on the silk and lifted it away from him, setting it closer to Matsudaira before bowing deeply down to the floor. "My Lord, I cannot accept such a precious gift. It is more than this poor soldier is worth."

"There are not gifts enough to repay you for bringing back my son alive and safe," Matsudaira replied. "That you recognized the blade so quickly and understand its value shows that I have chosen correctly in giving it to you. Remember that Norimune's masterpiece should never be taken lightly. Use it in honor to protect Japan against her enemies."

Okita bowed again, then straightened, misty grey eyes shining and a fierce, eager smile of delight on his lips. "I will, Matsudaira-sama. Always."

***

_Eight months later…_

Okita Souji sat on the engawa off the back of his room, legs dangling casually off the edge of the porch, hakama bunched haphazardly around them, and feet bare. A cord held back the sleeves of his kimono, but his hair still fell loose down his back. In a little while, he'd tie it up and go on patrol, but for now it was good to let the slight breeze play freely with it. Beside him lay the Kiku-ichimongi Norimune, the ripple and flower motif of the hamon winking at him in the alternate sun and shade of a nearby cherry tree, as if it were trying to convey sly secrets. It was an old sword – ancient, even; who knew what kind of stories it had to tell? Occasional petals from flowers past their prime drifted down, adding an artistic touch to the newly cleaned and oiled blade, but Souji's gaze didn't hold its usual mixture of awe and pride when he looked at it.

So much had happened since he'd received it: they'd moved from Mibu village to their new headquarters in the Nishi Hongan Temple, thereby angering the monks and unsettling the whole troop. Word was that they'd move again once the monks finished building a special compound just for them. The move had almost necessitated giving away Saizo and his siblings, but they'd managed find enough space to build a place to keep the rowdy, growing piglets here. He thought that perhaps they should have built more pens, since some of the new recruits seemed very similar.

The Ishin Shishi had started filtering back into Kyoto after the beginning of the new year, making the patrols more frequent and admittedly more interesting. Even Battousai had returned, or the man they believed was Battousai, although he was fighting with them openly now. Saito swore the ki had the same feel. Okita was disappointed that he hadn't had a chance to cross swords with the former assassin yet, but it would come. There was a new assassin now, one whose kills seemed more brutal and less precise than what they'd seen before Ikedaya.

Then Yamanami-san had deserted, a horrid surprise, and Okita had been sent after him. He'd tried to let the older man escape – begged him to, in fact – but he had returned to perform honorable seppuku, with Okita as his second. Souji's eyes still welled with tears when he thought about it, but he couldn't let it show. He was captain of the first unit after all and had to show his support for the rules.

Then there had been the flu that wouldn't quit. It had sapped his energy, and he still hadn't regained it, even though some days were better than others. He woke up sweating even on the coolest nights and the cough was still with him months later. Everyone had been down with something off and on over the winter. Between that and the usual injuries, Kondo had brought in a doctor – an old friend of his – to give everyone an examination. Souji hadn't needed a professional verdict to know that he'd had no ordinary flu. He hadn't even let the man say it. He didn't want anyone else to know, although he suspected Hijikata had guessed. But for as long as he could hide it, he would. He'd follow the doctor's advice about eating, sleeping, and hygiene, and act as if nothing was wrong. He wanted no special consideration; nothing more or less than the other captains got for as long as he could keep the contagion in his lungs under control.

All in all, it had been a busy eight months. Too busy to remember a promise to a nine-year-old boy he'd only met once. Until now. Now he remembered.

His eyes returned to the bright blade, winking at him with its secrets. Maybe laughter.

"Too late to bless us now, neh?" he asked softly, one finger stroking the silk cord on its grip. Then he leaned back on his hands to watch pale pink petals drifting against blue, blue sky.

"Always lucky," he mused. "Good and bad…"

~ Owari ~

--------------

_Author Notes:_

_I hope you've enjoyed this. Please let me know – I'm not above begging! Especially since it seems to work. ;)_

_In answer to Twilight Dusk, who asked if Souji was anorexic or just ate like a three-year-old - yep, he eats like a toddler. He was known to leave in the middle of banquets and there's some speculation that the uneven diet left him open to infection. The love of sweets is, as far as anyone can tell, a fiction but it does paint a picture of a 19th century junk food junkie. Some also postulate that his poor diet and the heat of the day caused his fainting at Ikedaya, not the tuberculosis. The manga/anime depicts the TB taking him down and it was quite an impressive bit of story-telling (I won't spoil it if you haven't seen it) but I am giving him a few extra months of grace from the disease._

_For Skywiseskychan, who asked about Okita's height - I wondered if anyone was going to catch me up on that, seriously. For some reason, all the manga artists like to portray Okita as being younger and shorter than anyone except Nagakura, who is also depicted as short. Todo is usually accepted as being the youngest. In reality, Okita was estimated to be about 5'7" - don't ask me to translate that into centimeters! - which put him taller that Kondo (who supposedly came to his chin) and even Hijikata. That made him tall for his time, as well. Oddly enough, Kenshin, from RK, is depicted as being very short, but at 5'2", he was about average for his time. Okita's not exactly short in Peacemaker, but not particularly tall, either. I freely admit I take a bit of artistic license with everyone's canon, but that's because I like to mix what I can tease out of history with canon and what pops out of my odd little mind. Of course, history also says Okita wasn't much to look at, but on that one, I'm going with the manga artists!_

_~Pen_

_Vocabulary:_

_Bakufu – literally "tent government", run by the Shogun and closely related houses and political partners._

_Bokken – wooden training sword_

_Engawa – the porch that surrounds most Japanese homes_

_Fukuchou – vice-commander_

_Fundoshi – loincloth_

_Furo – the tub in which the soaking part of the Japanese bath is taken_

_Hakama – the full skirt or wide-legged split trousers used by swordsmen to hide the movement of their legs_

_Hamon – __the transition between the region of harder steel of the blade edge and the softer steel of the back of the sword created by applying clay during the hardening process. Less clay and the blade cools quicker and is harder but more brittle; more clay and it cools slower and is more resilient._

_Haori – the loose, wide-sleeved jacket worn over kimono _

_Hatamoto – high-ranking samurai; the daimyo's right-hand men_

_Horimono – a carving or engraving on Japanese swords, usually of the ceremonial kind._

_Ki – life-force_

_Kiku-ichimonji – A__ collective name given to the Japanese swords made by the thirteen swordsmiths who were in attendance to the Emperor Go-Toba in 1208. Each swordsmith was in attendence on the Emperor for a month and spent the time instructing others on the making of superior quality swords. The swordsmiths of the Fukuoka School traditionally inscribed only the character "Ichi" (one) on the tang (the part that fits inside the handle) as their signature. They further received permission to append the Imperial chrysanthemum crest (kiku) on the tang, thus their swords are known collectively as "Kiku-ichimonji". I put the crest above the tsuba as well, to give Okita a visual clue about the quality of the sword he has just received. Truly "artistic license". _

_Kiyomitsu Kaga – Okita's original sword, made by Kiyomitsu in Kaga province. The tip was broken off during the Ikedaya affair. _

_Kumichou – captain_

_Miburo – a derogatory name for the Shinsengumi_

_Mimawarigumi – A group similar to the Shinsengumi but under the authority of the Shoshidai._

_Oni - demon_

_Seiza – Formal sitting posture – legs folded under, knees together, tops of feet on the floor, and sitting on one's heels_

_Shieikan - Kondo's dojo in the Tama region of Tokyo before he left for Kyoto_

_Shinai – bamboo training sword_

_Shogushoku – Protector of Kyoto – Lord Matsudaira Katamori's official title. This position was created and superimposed over the existing political structure __for the purpose of recovering public order in the city, under the influence of the "patriots". What the Soshidai had not been able to accomplish through the police force and courts, the Shogushoku was to achieve through military means._

_Shoshidai – Governor-General of Kyoto – Lord Matsudaira Sadaaki's official title. He was Katamori's younger brother, and he was __responsible for maintaining good relations and open communication between the shogunate and the imperial court._

_Souchou – commander (although I've seen other words used for this position also. I don't speak Japanese, so if this is wrong, someone please correct me)._

_Tsuba – the guard between the blade and the grip._


End file.
